


Monologue

by SilenceWanderer



Category: Witch's Heart (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, I guess? I don't know how to tag these kinds of things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23409244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceWanderer/pseuds/SilenceWanderer
Summary: Noel thinks.
Kudos: 7





	Monologue

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the whole game through Sirius' conclusion.  
> Thoughts and headcanons.  
> Sorry it's short.

After some time of being stuck in his more monstrous form, Noel had a hard time being sure if he was really himself. 

It wasn’t as if his thoughts shut off; while he could not speak in a way that others could actually understand, he could still think, see, try his best to convey desperate wishes that were only lost, contorted and nonsensical, every time he tries to speak through one of his mouths. 

In a way, it almost felt like he could compare his current state to how he was as a child before he found Claire. He felt like such a sentiment would only send some of the demons around him into peals of laughter; he, cursed and older and not-so-much human anymore, comparable to a human child who knew so little of the world? But there were certain things that set him off, relating the two, and him shrinking back into himself was reflected by only a faint, revolting twitch of the flesh that surrounded him, as if it wasn’t him. Just like then. 

His father, never calling his name or acknowledging him as himself. A name, clothes, body that felt foreign; staring into the mirror as his hair was arranged, wondering who that really was and how it had diverged from how he had known himself before. 

Even when he met Claire, so gentle and eager to cheer him up, he found himself telling her that he was “Patricia”. 

But somehow, with her, that name didn’t sting as much as it did when it was used by his father. Maybe despite the name really being his mother’s, the _intention_ of it was so different that it changed the entire name; after all, his father was simply using him as a replacement. When Claire beamed at him, eyes bright, and called for him, even if with that name, he truly felt that it meant _him_. Claire had never met his mother, had nothing to project onto him, and that made him feel elated, coming to play with her time and time again. He felt like he was being seen. 

All that was torn away from him, now that he didn’t have the strength to take his human form. 

Claire had no way of recognizing him like this, even if they ever met again somehow. (He almost hoped, despairingly, that they never would, even if he missed her so dreadfully he could already feel tears building in his several, massive eyes at the thought of it.) When they had met with him in this form, she only mentioned him to the others in the mansion as a creepy monster, massive and frightening, even moreso than the other demons that wandered its halls. His heart clenched at the memory of her fear, frozen and staring at him outside her door. 

No, he couldn’t scare her like that again, if he ever, in the hellish eternity that faced him, encountered her here. 

This form, so much larger than he felt, was like endless chaos to him. Fleshy, rotten goop and more eyes than he knew what to do with; controlling it at first, learning how his thoughts affected it, had been a nightmare. Now, with his thoughts so integrated into it that his essence felt dispersed, no longer so concrete and centered as it used to be, he almost wished he could go back to that level of distance even if it would mean immobility. 

Clutching to those childhood memories, and memories he had obtained (and kept) during the loops. Thinking of his human form, struggling to keep its image clear and steady so he could regain it should he gather enough energy to do so. 

Until then, all he could do was drift and feel heavy. It sounded so contradictory to him, the way he could feel so unsure, so confused, how distant the near-empty world surrounding him felt, and yet feel as if he was being pressed to the earth and viciously made to feel every inch of his presence at the same time. 

Closing his eyes, all those several wild eyes, and fighting the now-familiar moving of his flesh. Thinking, dreaming, crying out despite his success. 

_I just want Claire to be happy._

_Claire’s happiness is my happiness._

_Claire was alive, she was safe, and with Sirius with her, maybe she’s still that way._

_So why... why am I..._

He slithered further into the dark, trembling imperceptibly. 

_Why am I so unsure, when I should be at peace now that my work is done?_

Closing his hearing, senses, and drifting to a brighter time and Claire’s carefree smile,  
and the laughter and hissing of the small, deformed demons as they surrounded him, crowing at his despair.

**Author's Note:**

> Ever sit down to do your homework and suddenly it's 2 AM and you wrote a fic instead


End file.
